


Christmas Eve

by Colubrina



Series: Christmas Fics [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:02:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21540313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colubrina/pseuds/Colubrina
Summary: Draco and Hermione find themselves in the same last-minute shopping queue on Christmas Eve.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Series: Christmas Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1480730
Comments: 29
Kudos: 267





	Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve, Hermione thought as she stood in the interminable line, was the worst time to have to return a present. And it had seemed like such a good idea. The present, that was, not this last minute, miserable shopping trip.

Ugg.

"Granger." The neutral tone stating her name made her nervous, and when she turned to see who'd acknowledged her, she sighed. 

"Malfoy."

In the years since the war, they'd run into one another at assorted functions; their world was a small one, after all. Childhood animosity had long ago given way to the indifferent courtesy adopted by adult professionals who don't know one another well.

"What brings you to this delightful queue?"

She sighed again and turned to engage the man in the social chitchat he seemed determined to inflict upon her. "I thought a red fire truck would be a good gift for Teddy, Harry's godson, but as it turns out, Ginny had the same idea, so now I'm doing a last-minute exchange for a Muggle police car."

"You can't do that," he said, a hint of panic in his voice.

"What?" She frowned at him. "Merlin, Malfoy, I know it's a Muggle thing, but little boys love cars, and it's not like it's going to contaminate him forever or anything."

"Don't be daft." He ran his hand through his hair, the hand, she noticed upon closer inspection, that, unlike the other one, wasn't holding a plastic Muggle police car. "It's that I'm getting the kid a police car."

"Oh, no," she glared at him and his own plastic toy. "I'm in line first. I'm not going back into that fray to find something else." Then she paused and added, "I didn't realize you knew Teddy."

"He's my cousin." Malfoy was looking at her as though she'd lost her mind. "Of course, I know him."

"It's just that..."

"That I'm a prejudiced arse who couldn't possibly be getting a present for the kid because why, exactly?"

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Sorry enough to give up dibs on the police car gift?" He looked hopeful, but she snorted and shook her head before turning around to stare to the front of the queue again. The queue appeared to be the world's slowest; five minutes later, they'd moved up one spot, and he was still behind her, along with at least ten other people who'd piled up behind him.

"You know," she said, turning around again, "it's probably a good idea for a child to have multiple police cars."

He smiled at her, a tight, relieved smile. “Good, because I’m not trying again. This is… this is awful.”

“It is,” she agreed, studying him. Still blond, still all sharp angles, still in long sleeves that covered the surely faded Mark he’d had burned into his arm as a teenager.

“What are you getting yourself?” he asked, the pleasant tone a bit of a surprise but welcome nonetheless. She didn’t have a book with her, and having to stand in line next to Malfoy for what looked to be a long wait would be hideously unpleasant if they both just ignored one another.

“Getting myself?” 

He shrugged. “It’s what my mother always did; do Muggles not do that? She’d say she couldn’t rely on my father to have taste, so she’d always get herself something. Usually, some piece of expensive jewelry she’d been coveting.”

Hermione restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Trust Narcissa Malfoy to turn Christmas into an opportunity to indulge her own avarice rather than get gifts for other people. “I think that might be something only your mother would do.”

“Possibly.” He shifted the toy car to his other hand and added, “What would you get? If you were buying for yourself, what would you get that you knew no one else would get for you.”

“I don’t know. Chocolate, maybe. Ron tended to get a lot of chocolate frogs, but, well, I’m a little old for that. Something good.”

“Tended? Does he not bother with even that these days? Familiarity breeding contempt and all that?”

“We aren’t together anymore,” Hermione said, gritting her teeth and moving a few, blessed feet forward. “He moved on.”

“To someone who appreciated his presents of children’s candy?” Draco snorted, and Hermione flushed. The breakup hadn’t been especially cordial, and she found herself irritated that Draco Malfoy, of all people, was voicing some of the thoughts she’d had about her ex. He also certainly didn’t need to look quite so pleased she’d gotten dumped.

“I suppose.” It was more of a mutter than anything else. “Could we change the subject? What would you get yourself?”

Draco shrugged and looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “What I want, money can’t buy.”

“Like what?”

“It’s not important.” The line moved up again, and they both shifted forward.

“Tell me,” she teased, interested despite herself, and more than pleased to be able to needle him a bit in turn.

He sighed, then smiled. “Over cocoa, if you’ll agree to join me for such whenever this stint in holiday purgatory is over.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Only if you say yes. Otherwise, I am most certainly not.”

She smiled at that, and there they were, smiling at each other, a little holiday magic while stuck in this wretched store, and she heard herself saying, “Yes, okay. Cocoa. That sounds nice.”

“Assuming,” he added, “we haven’t died of old age by the time we reach the head of this queue.”

They didn’t die of old age but, by the time they had both handled their Teddy Lupin driven purchasing, their feet hurt from standing quite so long. They’d started telling funny stories about their jobs and about Christmas disasters of years past. It turned out Narcissa’s tradition of buying things for herself wasn’t wholly founded on greed but based on a complicated misunderstanding involving a goat, a spinning wheel, and a very large shed filled with straw.

Hermione had had to wipe tears away from her eyes when Draco told her that. He’d watched her laughing, and she’d caught a forlorn smile ghosting across his face before he replaced it with a more cheerful mask.

Finally, though, they were out of the shop and into the street, heading for cocoa. 

“Hold on,” he said. “Can you wait here for a moment; there’s one more last-minute thing I have to get. Shouldn’t take long.”

“Sure.” She shrugged and then, bemused, watched him go into an expensive chocolatier. Moments later, he was out, handing her a box wrapped up with a satin ribbon. “Merry Christmas,” he said. “I’m fairly sure you wouldn’t have bothered to get any for yourself and while I’m sure it can’t compete with a chocolate frog I hoped – “

She cut him off, rising to the tips of her toes to put a small kiss on his mouth. Holiday magic. He looked down at her and said, quietly, “So, I do get what I wanted for myself after all, at least a little.”

“Cocoa?” she asked, watching snow start to fall down around them, watching him watch her.

“Absolutely.” He held out his arm, and she took it. “Now that I’ve taken chocolates off your list, and since I assume the goat is out, what are you going to get for yourself?”

“I think I’ve figured it out,” she said, leaning into his side as they walked towards the cafe, as he helped her over a slushy spot, “but I’ll tell you next year.”


End file.
